After Dusk
by marsellia-rose
Summary: Human/Earth au. For as long as Khan can remember, both he and Spock have worked at the Vengeance; a club ship run by one of the most powerful men in the world- Admiral Marcus. It's not as if they like their "jobs"; they simply have no choice in the matter. And nothing would have changed if not for a favor needed of one Captain Kirk. Full sum/warnings/pairings inside, Khan-centric.
1. History

**A/N: Edit- okay, so this story used to be on my account Cataclysmic Entropy, but I decided it deserved to be here instead.**

**Yup, this is my story. The idea itself actually came from Angel 17, which is the story that Des is working on. We don't actually have the ability to co-author a story (we've tried…numerous times), but we thought that co-authoring an account would work.**

**So this chapter is basically a prologue to see if anyone would actually read this. It tells about the world (as I changed it). Hope you enjoy!**

**Side note: All other chapters will be longer. And I wished I owned Benedict Cumberbatch, but alas, I do not. Nor Bones. Nor Spock. **

**And I know it's short….**

* * *

The wars changed everything.

It wasn't even like they could pin it on one specific war. It was simply a combination of the wars, all happening around the same time that caused the fall. The year was 2265.

The wars had started in 2025.

They had ended in 2125.

Some people took to calling the wars the 100-year War, even though most of the battles didn't relate to each other. No one bothered trying to specify by battle; instead, the specified by year.

The wars ended 140 years ago.

But the world hadn't changed.

There were still minor battles, but anyone caught was immediately tried and punished. The world was ruled by a set of Admirals; those who descended from the victors of the war.

They abused their power, using it to get away with whatever they wanted. The people suffered.

Some escaped. The invention of star ships and warp speed allowed for the rich to search for new planets to colonize.

Our planet may have been polluted, but the other worlds weren't. Which is why the rich ended up colonizing Mars.

But only the rich got permits to live on Mars. Everyone else simply suffered down on Earth.

Even most of the Admirals couldn't get passes to go up to Mars. But they didn't care. They were content to rule the pitiful people of Earth; after all, the Admirals controlled the ships.

And the ships weren't just for travel anymore. The world had become so overpopulated that there was no more room. And so people took to traveling by shuttle and living on ships. The ships varied in size and shape; there was only one constant. Each ship had connections to an Admiral.


	2. Smoke

The club was a dark and smoky and overall not very safe looking place. But that was usually the case when it came to ship clubs. There was a reason that they were above ground.

It was safer. In a ship, you were in an Admiral's territory. And Admiral's weren't allowed in other Admiral's territory without permission, and even if they came they couldn't do anything.

Not that anyone would dare to mess with this Admiral. Admiral Marcus.

Or at least, they hadn't seen anyone try to.

"Spock…..there's a package here for you." Khan drawled, holding out a brown paper wrapped parcel.

Spock looked up from his vanity mirror across at Khan. Their room was larger than the others, the lighting and painting giving the room and reddish-pink hue. The room was not a perfect shape, either. A small wall held the door at the other end of the room. Next to it was a larger wall that was entirely cut out to reveal a rather large closet of costumes. The next wall slanted back, and held a full length mirror and Spock's vanity. The next wall mirrored Spock's wall but was Khan's space, and the final wall held a couple chairs, as well as a door to their room.

Khan dropped himself into one of the chairs, tossing the package to Spock. "There's one for me, too. I don't suppose he's making us learn a new routine…?"

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "We're on in a half an hour. When, exactly, would we have time to learn? It's illogical to try and teach us now; he had all day to do it. Anyways, you should start getting ready; you know how angry he gets when you're not."

Khan glared, before sighing. "Fine. Which show are we performing tonight?"

Spock actually turned around at that, looking at Khan's relaxing figure. "You didn't bother to check?"

"No. You always check; why should I?" Khan stood, walking over to the closet and rifling through the clothes.

"The big show." Spock turned back around, searching through his vanity draws for the right makeup.

A momentary look of panic flitted across Khan's face before he schooled it back to a sort of impassive irritation. "Fantastic." He drawled sarcastically. "Black and white, I presume?"

"Always." Spock, finally having found what he was looking for, returned to doing his makeup.

Glaring at the closet, Khan went over to his own vanity, dropping himself in the seat in front of it. He spun around once before stopping, looking at the brown paper parcel on the table. "I'm opening it." Spock made a noise of consent but did not bother to look up. Opening his package, Khan glared at the contents for a minute before chucking them across the room at the door.

At the noise, Spock set down his makeup and spun to face Khan, one eyebrow raised. "Should I be concerned..?"

"Open your package." Khan glared at nothing in particular before turning towards his mirror.

Spock, eyebrow rising higher, turned towards his package a gently opened it. When he saw what it was he understood why Khan was so upset. "It's not like it's that much worse than what we wore last time."

Khan whipped around, glaring daggers at Spock's head. "_It's_ _worse_. And what comes next?" There was a pause, and Spock could see that Khan was calming down. "And besides, it inhibits movement and we didn't get a chance to practice in it."

Spock stood up, retrieving Khan's from where he chucked it. "It's not too bad. It will only stop us from being able to do a couple of things, and neither of us really ever liked that part anyway. Logically, this is a good solution. Besides, apparently the buyers didn't pay enough tonight, so we're wearing skinny jeans anyway, and those prohibit movement more than this will."

Khan sighed. "You're right, I suppose. Give it." He held out his hand, taking back his piece. "Can I borrow your liquid liner?"

"Catch." Spock tossed it over.

* * *

They didn't make it to the entrance of the stage. Admiral Marcus stopped them.

Spock hated when he did this, because he immediately knew that their performance time was much later than they previously thought.

Admiral Marcus's eyes roamed them both. Spock stared back impassively. Khan stared at the floor.

"I see you got my presents." Marcus's voice was smooth, oily, made both men feel uncomfortable; something rather hard to do now.

"Yes sir." Spock said, hoping to prolong the interaction and shorten the amount of time after it.

"Good…good." Marcus stared at the boys. They really were beautiful. Spock wore white, skin-tight, distressed skinny jeans, black heeled-boots, and, of course, the new black harness. It attached to the jeans and ran up his sides and down his arms, and attached again at the black studded collar around his neck and black handcuff-type bracelets around his wrists. His black hair was slightly mussed, but still perfectly straight, and his eyes were lined with black and grey smoky eye shadow. He was shirtless, showing off abs. Khan wore a similar outfit, with reversed colors. Both also wore bright red lipstick. "Spock, someone will come get you when they're ready for you. Go back to your dressing room for now. Khan…come with me."

* * *

**A/N: ….you have no idea how much I love my new cover for this. Anyways…you all should go listen to the podcast Night Vale. Hope you liked this chapter.**

** By the way, I figured that since they're strippers and all they'd look a little different, so just picture Spock's hair non-perfect and Khan looking more like Benedict Cumberbatch does in Sherlock. And they'd act a little different, since they're used to the abuse. **

** Also, I can't do lemons. There is a logical reason for this; I've never actually had sex, and I don't really want to botch a lemon, so…..**


	3. Sail

Thirty minutes passed before Khan came back. When he came back, he was holding his shoes, his lipstick smudged and hair messed up. He tossed his shoes near his table before collapsing into one of their chairs, curling inward.

Spock came and sat next to him; not speaking, just offering silent comfort.

Neither man moved until a young boy- Chekov, Spock's mind readily supplied- came in. "Marcus says he iz veady for you." His Russian accent was endearing, but his message was not. Khan's jaw clinched, and Spock sighed.

"Tell him we'll be out in a minute." Spock said, searching Khan's face for any sign of any emotion.

"Yez sir." Chekov nodded, leaving them in piece.

"Khan, get up." Following Spock's orders, Khan went and seated himself at his vanity. Spock grabbed the lipstick, fixing up his makeup before nodding. "Grab your shoes. It's time to go."

Khan nodded slowly, picking himself up and slowly walking over to his shoes, as if his body was on autopilot.

"Khan." Spock said, his voice authoritative yet calming.

Khan nodded slowly before allowing a sardonic smile to creep on his face. "I'm fine."

Spock frowned. "Fine is a relative term. Fine is inadequate. Fine is-"

"Spock." Khan's voice was abrupt, irritated. "I'm _fine_. Let's go. He hates it when we're late. We can have this conversation later- that is, if we're both free." He huffs degradingly. "Free. I suppose that's a relative term too."

Spock nodded, "Alright. Let's go."

They made their way down the darkly lit hallway; a stark contrast from their bright colored room. Even from where they were- which was a ways away from the club- they could feel the beat of the music- perhaps because they were trained to. They both walked in time, hips swaying, arms hanging at their sides. Khan let his usually self-satisfied look slip onto his face; this was what he did, after all. Spock kept his face impassive, as per usual.

They fell into routine, mirroring everything the other did.

It wasn't long before they arrived at the door to the club. It was a solid metal door- so that no one from the club could get into the rest of the ship- and was guarded by Thomas Harewood. "They're ready for you two." He leered at Khan- all the workers here preferred him, Spock noted- before opening the door. "In you go."

As soon as they stepped out onto their platform, they were surrounded by smoke, people, and their music.

They immediately started dancing. Well….if you could call what they did dancing. With the way they moved their hips and bodies and damn, that shouldn't even be possible.

Then the singing started, and the crowd went wild.

* * *

Jim both loved and hated ship clubs.

He loved them because they were ridiculous and had the most beautiful women- not that he was interested, given he was currently pursuing the beautiful blonde who'd only given him the letter J as her name- and they never, ever got busted- belonging to the Admirals and all. But he hated them because, since they never got busted, they were also the ones with the most illegal activity and the seediest people.

This club was no exception. He wouldn't even be here, expect he owed Admiral Pike a favor and the man had come around to collect.

So he dragged Bones with him and they entered the Vengeance- who the fuck names a club Vengeance anyway?- only to find they were now on Admiral Marcus's territory- ah, that's who- and now suddenly it made sense why Admiral Pike was making him do this. Admirals couldn't enter each other's territory with explicit permission.

So of course, Jim and Bones had to go visit this dark, seedy club full of half-naked people dancing and random other people cheering- shit. They were in one of _those_ clubs.

Bones immediately looked uncomfortable. Jim just frowned, before a loud music started playing.

_This is how I show my love  
I made it in my mind because  
I blame it on my A.D.D. baby_

Both Bones and Jim's attention was immediately captured by what was now the only two dancers in the club. All the other dancers had cleared off, allowing for the two new men to have everyone's attention.

They were dressed in matching outfits of black and white. But what was most noticeable was their beauty. Both men were equally beautiful. Jim may not have been gay, but even he could appreciate their beauty.

Because damn, they were beautiful. Both were tall and thin. The one in white pants had smooth black hair, which was almost perfectly in place, and this impassive, cold look. The other had even more pointed features, with messy, dark brown hair and a haunted, hallowed look in his eyes which did not match the smirk gracing his lips.

_This is how an angel dies  
I blame it on my own sick pride  
Blame it on my A.D.D. baby_

They were beyond graceful. Jim turned to comment that thought to Bones, but his friend was gone. A quick glance revealed he was being chatted up by a pretty blonde. Happy for his friend, Jim turned back to the dancers- however, not before he saw something shocking. J- his J- was in the corner of the room, standing next to a pretty, petite blonde girl.

He immediately moved to go talk to her. Her friend, noticing his approach, raised an eyebrow but didn't move.

"Hello." He put on his sexy look, staring at J.

Her blonde friend replied for her. "Look sir, we don't work here. You wanna buy someone for the night, you go over there." She gestured towards were a group of scantily glad people- the people who had been dancing, Jim noted- were standing.

Jim was at a loss for words. "I-I'm not…"

J apparently took pity on him, turning towards her blonde friend with an amused smile. "He's here to see me. This is Jim- the guy I was telling you about?"

A look of understanding passed over the blonde face. "Ah." She looked at Jim again, this time appraisingly, as if judging his every fiber. "Captain Jim Tiberious Kirk. I'm Carol Wallace. I assume you know Jo-"

J- Jo, apparently- immediately cut off Carol. "He knows me as J." She looked irritated, but the look was replaced by a sort of gentle amusement. "Or Jo, now I suppose."

Jim smiled. "Jo, huh? I like it. It's pretty."

Jo rolled her eyes. "That's what you said about J."

Jim's smile grew bigger, if possible. "That'd be because everything about you is beautiful."

However, his flirtation- which was more successful, he noted- was cut short by Bones's arrival. "Jim, come on. We're not here to flirt."

* * *

**A/N: NO THERE IS NO SLASH. …it took me forever to pick my pairings, and in the end I decided that no, I do not want this story to be a slash story (even though all my OTPS are slash…..) Jim is not gonna end up with Spock, nor is he gonna end up with Khan. He's just appreciating the fact that yes, they are beautiful.**

** Can someone other than Des review? Shit Des, I almost just typed your other fanfiction name. That would have been bad…..**


	4. Favors

Jim and Bones ended up just sitting at the bar, observing the club. After all, that is what Admiral Pike told them to do- observe, and see what they notice.

But soon enough they were approached by a man. He was a large man, with a mostly-bald head, red button-up shirt, and black pants. He exuded self-importance. Jim immediately didn't like him.

"What can I do you for, Cupcake?"

The man frowned, looming over the seated Jim. "My name is Mr. Hensdorff. I was wondering if you're interested in buying anything, or if you're just admiring the view." He motioned to the two dancers still on stage.

Jim frowned. "What'd you mean, buy something, Cupcake? We've bought drinks- ohhh, you mean like pay for a stripper?"

Bones remembered why he didn't go into clubs with Jim.

"A stripper or a prostitute." Mr. Hensdorff said. "We have a rather large selection."

Jim shook his head. "Not interested. Sorry."

An irritated look passed over Mr. Hensdorff's face, before he left. Jim rolled his eyes. "Hey Bones, you wanna get outta here?" When there was no response, he turned towards his friend. "Bones- oh god. That's her, isn't it."

Bones nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving the woman leaning against the bar. She wasn't the prettiest of women, with too much makeup, bleached blond hair, and too-tight clothes, but she wasn't unattractive.

That, however, wasn't the problem.

The problem was that she was Jocelyn Treadway, Bones's ex-wife.

* * *

The show wasn't too bad, all things considered.

But as soon as Spock and Khan saw Marcus's face they knew he was upset with it.

Which did not bode well for their night.

"When I say I want a performance I want a good one, not some half-assed thing. What the hell was that?" Was the first thing out of Marcus's mouth once they were backstage.

Khan glared at the walls, the floor- anything but Marcus- while Spock simply raised an eyebrow. "You could not logically expect us to be at our top performance level when we had absolutely no time to practice with our new outfits, could you?"

Marcus glared at Spock, before allowing a smirk at slip onto his face. "Well it doesn't matter now. Both of you have costumers tonight. Spock, Nero's back from business. Khan, Clay Treadway's here. When he's done, come by my room." Marcus glanced between the two of them. "You have a half an hour to get yourselves ready."

* * *

Their room was a mess, clothing everywhere. Spock knew someone would eventually come clean it up, but that didn't mean it didn't bother him.

"Khan…" He sighed.

Khan was glaring mutinously at his closet, his arms crossed, the clothing he had dumped out strewn across the room. Chairs, the floor, their vanities- everything was covered in clothing.

"_Impress him_. How the fuck do I impress him?" Khan snarled, turning his glare towards Spock. However, taking in Spock's outfit, his gaze softened. "Sorry." He said quietly.

Spock nodded. "It's fine." He glanced down at his outfit, leaning back on the door. He was wearing tight, black leather pants, and a large white shirt- so big it was falling off his shoulder, revealing his collarbone. Just like Nero liked. "What about that purple shirt?"

"Isn't it yours?" Khan asked, staring angrily at his closet.

"Yes, but you can borrow it if you like." Spock smiled at Khan, walking over to where he was and pulling him away from the closet. "Come on. I'll help you find your shoes in this mess."

* * *

She hadn't seen them yet, Jim knew, but it didn't stop him from being on edge. He would have just made them leave, except that when he tried Bones pointed out that he still owed Admiral Pike and that "really, it was fine, I am a grown man after all". But Jim knew it wasn't fine.

It was never fine. Not when Jocelyn was involved. Jocelyn, who had cheated on Bones for years before finally breaking it off with him. Jocelyn, who the very same day she finalized the divorce got married to Clay Treadway.

Jocelyn, who Jim swore he would break his rule of no hitting girls to beat the shit out of for the shit she had done to his best friend.

But no, Bones had to go and convince him that they needed to stay for Pike. So now they were sitting at the bar, observing, both silently praying that Jocelyn wouldn't notice them.

Of course, the world is never that kind.

"Leonard?"

* * *

When Spock got back to their room, it was clean, orderly, and empty. He had a brief moment of relief- he was exhausted and didn't really feel like talking- but at the same time..not really concerned, more…pitying. He knew why Khan wasn't back yet- knew exactly where Khan was.

Not that there was anything he could do about it. He peeled off his white shirt, then held it in front of him, judging it's state. With a little help from Christine it would probably be salvageable. Maybe. He glanced at the tears again before shaking his head. Most likely not. He folded it neatly- even in his exhaustion he required neatness- before setting it on his vanity. He'd give it to her anyway- she'd probably be able to do _something_ with it.

He then peeled off his leather pants, setting them on the vanity as he went looking for a pair of sweatpants. Finding a pair- he wasn't sure who's, not that it mattered- he pulled them on, grabbed a black t-shirt, and dressed himself, before turning towards the pants. He'd _liked_ those pants. Of course, while leather is hard to rip, it's not match for a knife. He picked them up gingerly, turning them in his hands. Maybe there were salvageable. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

He folded them and set them next to the shirt, resolving to take his- and Khan's- clothes to Christine tomorrow to be fixed. He then sat down at his vanity, staring at his face.

The makeup was smudged. His hair was a mess. He looked thoroughly fucked. And that was not acceptable.

He pulled out his bottle of makeup remover and set about fixing everything, running his hand through his hair. His hand was pushed aside, though, and a brush started fixing it.

"Hello, Khan." He said softly. There was no response, but it didn't bother him. This was normal. Normal was Khan needing something to distract him and Spock happily complying.

Normal was this.

* * *

**A/N: HENDORFF IS CUPCAKE'S REAL NAME. HENDORFF IS CUPCAKE. I REPEAT. HENDORFF IS CUPCAKE. I googled it.**

**Johanna is not Bones's daughter in this- her actually being Clay's kid. **

**Anyways….I know I spent a long time writing Spock doing basic things- like changing and stuff- but I need you guys to understand- he's not looking to escape his life. Neither is Khan. They don't think there **_**is**_** an escape. And so they go about their normal routines.**


	5. Routine

"Hello, Jocelyn." Bones said with a sigh, turning around to face his ex-wife with a resigned look on his face. Jim turned around as well, frowning at the woman.

She raised an eyebrow at Bones, choosing to ignore Jim completely for the moment. "What are you doing here?" She looked slightly amused, but in an almost cruel way, like she was judging him. "Have to pay people to sleep with you now?"

Before Bones could respond, Jim cut in. No one was allowed to talk to his best friend like that. "He's here for me, actually. What with the southern accent and charm, it's easy for him to get women. Not surprised you're here though." He gave Jocelyn a critical once over before raising an eyebrow. "What with a body and face like yours, do they make you pay extra?"

She flinched, before composing herself and turning towards Bones. "Are you really going to let him talk to me like that, Leonard?"

Bones paused for a moment before allowing an amused look to cross his face. "I don't know. He sounds a bit like Clay did, doesn't he?"

At that, Jocelyn fell silent, knowing that Bones was right. Because Clay had been- and still was- that big of an asshole.

"Speaking of Clay, is he here tonight?" Bones asked, unimpressed. "Seems a bit low, bringing you here with him."

Jocelyn glared. "Clearly time alone hadn't made you any nicer." She stormed off in a huff.

Jim laughed. "Well, she sure is something." He spun in his chair, smiling and bumping Bones' arm. "You good?"

Bones watched her leave, then turned to Jim. "I'm….I'm good. You still want to get out of here?"

Jim shook his head. "Nah. We can stick around a little while longer."

* * *

Spock knew, without a doubt, that he looked perfectly normal again. Bu Khan hadn't moved from behind him. Which was never a good sign.

Slowly standing up and turning around, Spock took the brush away from Khan's shaking hand, taking note of the newly-formed bruises littering his arms and neck, as well as the state of his outfit.

His shirt was hanging on his body, all buttons missing, and his pants had small tears all over. His hair stood up in every direction, his makeup completely a wreck, and there was a smattering of blood on his wrists- Spock assumed from where the handcuffs cut into the skin.

Spock gently maneuvered Khan to his vanity, guiding him till he was sitting in front of it. Brush in hand, Spock set about gently fixing Khan's appearance. Once he was done, he went over to their closet, pulled out a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweater, and set them in a pile in front of Khan. He then busied himself cleaning up their room while Khan changed, stopping only to take Khan's clothes and add them to the ever-growing pile of things they needed Christine to fix.

After changing, Khan went through the door to their other room- where their beds were- shutting it behind him. Spock decided to go visit Christine.

Christine Chapel, better known to the public as Black Rose, and to her special clients as Chastity, was a beauty to behold. With long blonde hair and flawless skin, she was most men's wet dream.

She also was one of the sweetest girls Spock knew. Happy to help in any way she could, she was most everyone's favorite person on the Vengeance.

She also was the person you went to when you needed clothing fixed- a common problem, as most people who paid for them didn't have the patience for buttons. Or some, like Nero, had an obsession with cutting clothes off a people. It didn't matter.

Either way, the clothing needed to be fixed. And Christine? She _loved_ to sew. So it was a good mix.

"Hey, Spock." Christine said from her spot curled up in her chair. Unlike himself and Khan, she- much like the rest of the performers- got a (much smaller) set of rooms to herself. Currently they were in her prep room, which was half the size of Spock's. Her walls were painted baby blue, and her vanity- which sat at the opposite was- was white, like the paneling on her closet. The chair she was sitting in was a dark blue, and the table next to it was oak.

"Hey, Christine." He held up the pile of clothing. "Can you…?"

She smiled, standing up and setting down the book- because all of the performers were taught to read, and were allowed books and such. "Here." She held out her arms, and Spock deposited the pile.

"There's a couple things that probably aren't salvageable. If so, keep them. I'm sure you can do more with them than we can." Spock said, knowing she loved getting scrap material.

Christine's smile grew as she set the clothing in a basket sitting next to her table. "I'll have everything fixed and back to you in four days, unless you need it sooner?" She said.

Spock shook his head. "Four days is fine. Thank you, Christine." He smiled at her.

"You're welcome."

He headed through the halls back to their room to wake Khan so they could go get food. No one was out right now- everyone was either holed up in their rooms or in the club performing- so he went rather quickly.

Upon entering their room, however, he noticed something was off. The door was shut, and he could hear yelling from behind it. Concerned, he yanked the door open- it took a couple tries- and, upon seeing what was happening, sighed.

It was Khan. Of course. It was always Khan.

* * *

**A/N: First chapter not posted on Cataclysmic Entropy….weird…anyways….yes, I know Jim was being mean in the beginning. But keep in mind the world is crueler, and as such, people are crueler. Please review?**


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